


Can't Be Without You

by Eldas_Ruined_Soul



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Self-Discovery, Self-Doubt, post-manga
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:47:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24292339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eldas_Ruined_Soul/pseuds/Eldas_Ruined_Soul
Summary: Soul and Maka have to deal with being separated for a time and come to terms that this may be their reality someday.
Relationships: Maka Albarn/Soul Eater Evans
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	1. Two weeks

**Author's Note:**

> Title is being subject to change. 
> 
> Wow, it's been a while since I've wrote fan fiction, hope you enjoy, I'm always open to constructive criticism and betas though!

It was all Papa’s _-no Spirit’s-_ fault.

Maka huffed to herself while sitting in the very empty apartment. She was currently, to no avail, trying to invest in the new season of _whatever-the-fuck-it’s-called_ while drowning herself in popcorn. Her endless mulling of her current situation seemed to take over her thoughts.

For what reason did he need a break for? After all, wasn’t 2 months in Cancun overextending a little bit, especially when your Lord Death’s right hand man?

Maka watched as the lead girl _-Stacy? Sabrina? No that’s not it-_ was trying to play it cool and finally confess to lead boy _-Matt? Mark? Whatever._ Yet, when she finally brought up the courage, lead bitch number one and her two sidekicks sabotaged it by spilling the contents of her lunch tray down her shirt. Gross. _Typical._

Maka put a few more pieces of popcorn in her mouth.

But no. Papa has to get his time away with some busty chicks drinking margaritas while singing and dancing to _“It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere_ ”.

Thus meaning Soul would be needed to take his place for the time being.

And only two weeks into his time away and she has already become a lonely, selfish meister. _How was she going to survive 6 more weeks?_

Being Lord Death’s- _well, Kid’s_ Death Scythe meant that Soul would need to be in the Death Room or at least 6 feet within him at all times in the case something would happen.

Yeah she could visit him. But that would only be putting her loneliness on display. It wasn’t like she didn’t have any other friends. Hell, she had _plenty._ Maka put her focus to the screen once again.

Ah, lead girl _-Sammy?-_ covered in food guts, is getting cleaned off with the help of lead guy number 2, the best friend _-who obviously has a crush on her_. Sometimes these new rom-com shows were just too predictable. Maka grabbed the remote and flicked the T.V. off.

Staring at the ceiling she thought of what she could do to get her mind off of her absent weapon. Perhaps she needed to find more hobbies other than reading and kicking Black Star’s ass.

That’s when she came to a realization. _What is she gonna do when Spirit is no longer Lord Death’s Weapon?_ That title would go to Soul, right? Since he is ‘The Last Death Scythe’. What would she do? After all, she swore off on getting another partner. Soul would be her first and last. _Weapon she added hesitantly_.

  
_Her first and last weapon._

So then, what was she to do? She couldn’t be his full time meister if he was needed at Kid’s beck and call all the time. And she didn’t want to get another partner, it wasn’t like she could make another Death Scythe with the witch treaty and all.

Maka needed to find another dream. She would not become a girl waiting around for a boy to give her purpose in life. She would find her own damn purpose. The problem was what?

Did she really want to stay in Death City the rest of her life? She knew she had the bug for travel like her mom, but that to stay with the DWMA and be stationed in another branch would require being partnered with another Death Scythe, _and probably not the one she made._

Soul had not been much of an adventurer, he preferred to spend his weekends lounging on the couch binging Netflix, not that she minded. Maka had a bit more curiosity for the unknown than her partner. She would often go on runs in the mornings and try to see a different part of town every day to keep up her active lifestyle. She didn’t use Soul as much anymore, of course they would go on missions here and there, but Soul also had Death Scythe duties that were required of him too. That had been their life for about the past 2 years. Sure, she missed the constant missions, the constant bond, and being able to figure out the world together. _Hell, even taking down Asura together._

Maka needed to figure out her life and she hated to say it - _without Soul._ Her eyes were beginning to water. He wouldn’t be able to always be with her, she’s already gotten a taste of that. So she would have to prepare herself for when he leaves for good. Leaves the apartment. Their apartment _-no, their home._

But she felt empty without him. She knew nothing could truly fill the void he left. So, how would she distract herself from it?

Begrudgingly, Maka got up from the couch in search of her laptop to do some late night soul-searching. Maybe Google can have the answer she’s looking for.

____________

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s facing the right a little too much. No, or maybe it’s the left? Which way do you think, Soul?”

This was at least the 5th time he’d been asked this question. It had become old the _second time_ Kid asked. Liz claimed Kid was getting better, but if this was progress, he sure had a very long way to go.

“If you’re going to spend so much time contemplating whether it’s symmetrical or not, why don’t you just get rid of it.” Soul said in the most passive-aggressive voice he could muster to finally get the Death God focused on some work.

Reports and deadlines were piling up with every minute Kid was focusing on the goddamned mirror. Soul wasn’t up for another late night helping him with paperwork.

“I need this mirror to make sure my reflection is pristine. Symmetrical. Even. Without it I don’t think I can go on. There, what do you think now?” Beads of sweat were starting to run down his brow.

Soul guessed he was only halfway through his breakdown and that he’d be in this state for at least 10 minutes longer, Kid had only just now pulled out the ruler.

He was starting to become more aware of Kid’s antics, especially after ‘bunking’ with him for about, what, two weeks now? Time seemed to fly by.

Days in the Death household seemed to hold endless meetings, endless paperwork, and endless social interaction not only with Kid, but with all the other advisors and updates from the other Death Scythes across the globe. And they seemed to be having more fun than he was. This was one of the few times he was able to sit down and actually be alone with his thoughts for a minute.

Plus it wasn’t helping that Kid’s study seemed to be reminding him of how much he missed his meister. His study, at the very least, held as many books as there were in 1/4th of the public DWMA library. But these books seemed to be in a whole different class of their own. There were encyclopedias, guides, rare classics, everything about any species, human or nonhuman. _Maka would go nuts with all the knowledge that’s kept in here._

He’d have to show her sometime, if she would’ve bothered to pay him a visit during his time as Kid’s personal weapon.

He truly didn’t know how Spirit does it, or maybe it’s cause he had plenty of experience with Kid’s dad _-may he rest in peace_. Soul did not know if the few pieces left of his sanity could handle Kid for the next three hours, let alone the next six weeks.

Sure, he was good friends with Kid, but living with him was a whole different story and Liz and Patty could only do so much. Not only were they promoted to being personal advisors to Lord Death they also acted as his secretaries. Plenty of people were still calling in worried about whether or not Asura was going to burst through his captivity on the moon or somehow call up some black-blooded friends to destroy the earth for revenge or whatnot. Soul assumed they were fine or else his blood would’ve caused him to destroy the town by now. There was only so much of Kid he could take.

“I’m going to go get the level.”

Soul sighed and started to go through some of the paperwork. Since Kid wouldn’t be back soon he picked up the Death God’s official signature stamp from it’s pad and started pressing it along the dotted lines of the mountainous piles of dead trees that littered the desk. _Ah, there’s a start to getting some shit done around here._

Who knows? By maybe some act of god Spirit might grow weary of suntanning on the beach, getting all the booze he wants and making out with any young college-age girl with daddy issues to come and save him from this misery. But, probably not, especially knowing him and _his women._

_How the fuck does he get anything done? Well, what would Maka do in this situation? Probably chop Kid to the moon and back in order to retain some focus from him._

He was also missing his bed, sleeping on a couch in the study sure wasn’t his idea of comfort. The Death Room also wasn’t a very ideal place to sleep either, with the backdrop of the sun and clouds 24/7. He couldn’t fall asleep with daylight pelting in from all angles, so the old couch in Kid’s secluded study was his new room for the time being.

Maybe he could feel a little more at home if he did get a visit from his absent meister. What was she doing anyway. He knew she had schoolwork and books and _other friends_ , but could that seriously take up so much time that she can’t visit her _partner_.

The only interaction they had this week was a few polite texts on how the other is doing in their current respective situations. Other than that, nothing.

“Alright, I also brought the tape measure just in case, but I think I can get it just right with the level.”

All he could do is live with the current situation. If anything happened it would be on him to help, so he would have to do his duty to Lord Death for the time being. Yet this would probably be the only time he would ever envy Spirit for anything. _Definitely gonna need some time away after this._

_After all, a vacation on the beach with his actual meister didn't sound too bad right now._


	2. Four weeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Maka gets a taste of what life is like without wielding a giant scythe and Soul has one too many RedBull’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!

She honestly had no clue how she ended up here. But she figured experience would be the best bet in knowing what she was getting into.

After being here a week-and a half, DeathBucks was probably the end-all, end-all of getting to know the public at their worst.

Hell, you haven’t seen it all until you’re up at 6 a.m. serving caffeine deprived zombies eager for blood and flesh if they didn’t get their triple shot latte within 15 seconds of entering,  _ screw you Liz and Patty. _

This wasn’t what she hoped when she planned to integrate into a  _ civilian _ lifestyle or even a more ‘normal’ one than the one she currently had, or won’t have,  _ future tense. _

With LL Cool J on the speakers, whip cream all over her hands,  _ and no that is not a sex joke,  _ Maka sets about her day pleasing the coffee crazed line of guests that extends nearly half down the block with no end in sight. 

At least, she’s only had two shitty customers throwing a temper tantrum over not having enough sweetener in their coffee this morning and she would be off her shift in a half an hour, to which she gave a relieved sigh after checking her watch and thus started to make some floofy deathacinno decked out with carmel, whipped cream, cinnamon, and way too many calories and sugar for one human being to handle. _But whatever right?_ _It’d beat being at home, lounging around being depressed about her possible dying partnership. It was already four weeks too long since she last saw the scythe...but whatever, right? She could handle it._ _She’s Maka fucking Albarn._

With only a few minutes left of her shift and sanity to go, Maka assumed she’d make it out ok, with little harm done to her dignity after six hours of constant drink making. However, this thinking was way too soon for the scythe-meister once she saw a hulking, pissed figure arrive at the counter once again for the second time, to which before came mindlessly and passively only minutes before.  _ Fuck. _

“Can I help you with something sir?” Maka put on her best, innocent face complete with a  _ fakingly  _ warm smile to hopefully lessen the blow.

“I ordered a venti pumpkin spice cappuccino with  _ five  _ extra shots of pumpkin,  _ you _ gave me  _ six. _ ” Maka winced as the older man gritted his order out, eyes flashing with hatred. 

_ Well, the meter’s arrow was definitely past the breaking point now. _

Maka knew what she could’ve done in this situation...probably should’ve done if she were a better, more moralistic person.  _ But no, she wasn’t having this shit today.  _

“No, sir, you enunciated to me  _ twice _ that you wanted that drink made with 5 extra shots of pumpkin, not  _ six _ .” 

_ There was no backing down now. _

  
The customer raised his voice in mock horror and fury. “ _ Excuse me?” _

“I’m sorry sir, but I can’t remake that drink for you unless you’re going to pay for it,” she glared.

__

“Well, fuck you, _you flat-chested bitch!”_

__

Then there it was, _the overpowering urge to take down this motherfucker._

__

_“Excuse me!?!”_

__

As far as Maka knew, there was only one person who had ever called her flat-chested. And he only barely got away with it himself after getting books forcefully aimed onto his cranium. _And she sure as hell wasn’t gonna let this dick get away with disrespecting women._

__

It was as if she left her body and through a dissociated mix of anger and terror, only barely felt herself flatten the man’s nose into his face. 

__

_The punch probably would’ve been powerful enough to take down Asura himself._

__

And only too late did she realize that she probably should’ve handled that with peace rather than violence, but peace was never as fun though. And only too late did she find out that this would cost her job, thus ending her nine day career at DeathBucks. _Yet, in all fairness, she was standing up for herself and womankind. So she figured she didn’t lose much anyways._

__

~~~

__

Needless to say her disaster at DeathBucks didn’t cost her the rejection of another job and she was almost immediately hired on the spot to work in a typical run-of-the-mill office job in the billing department of the DWMA. Which meant she would be spending most of her time there between work and school. Since Maka technically was a senior, _according to civilian life anyway_ , it meant she wasn’t required to fill her class schedule and had quite a few free periods to start working towards her _‘professional’_ life.

__

She had wanted the bookkeeping position, but some idiot had already beat her to it.

__

Well, she would’ve possibly had a chance at a promotion if she had stayed for more than an hour and a half.

__

_If._

__

Now if someone asked why she left, she would tell them that she didn’t feel she was right for the position and that she didn't exactly fit, then quickly find the nearest subject of interest to steer the conversation into.

_  
_ It wasn’t that she did have a problem answering phones, working with _respectable_ customers or even issuing lengthy and expensive bills to struggling students just trying to catch a break from tuition.

What was the problem was her coworker, specifically the one sitting on her left, who,  _ at first,  _ seemed to be the picture of professionalism, dressed in a business suit with glasses perched above the nose, typing furiously on some financial report.

However, things aren’t always what they seem.

All she needed was a pencil to write in a few things she needed to remember and look up from her previous client’s call but instead she was given a  _ huge-no a heaping  _ dose of trauma _. _

The situation occurred like this: while asking for the utensil, Maka may have swiveled her chair into the left occupant’s cubicle a bit  _ too soon and too far  _ for  _ her liking, or anyone’s, well… except for this person’s really. “Can I borrow one o-”  _ Catching a glimpse of the computer screen Maka’s eyes were assaulted with the images of triple x porn,  _ needless to say it involved a harem, corn dogs, and duct tape. And those corn dogs should’ve not been where they were, at least not under anything holy.  _ But if it wasn’t for what happened next, she would have let it go and went about her day, pretending it never happened. Sparing her  _ coworker’s embarrassment. _ But no, Maka may have stared a moment too long at the screen and finally when she had worked up the nerve to look at her coworker, she was giving her a sly smile, with her teeth chewing on her lower lip while giving Maka  _ all-too-focused-and-all-too-inviting-eyes. _

After uttering a very broken and embarrassed stutter of apology, Maka swiveled back into her cubicle, images still fresh in her head. From that point on, everything was pretty hazy. All she remembered was looking for the bathroom and when she finally had found it, after going down several twisted hallways and staircases, it was already in use.  _ Damn.  _ Figuring the walk back would take the time it would take for the bathroom to be open again, she sat down against the wall next to the door, head leaned back in exhaustion. 

Her thoughts flooded back to Soul, missing his wavelength,  _ his soul,  _ even though he was probably just somewhere up on one of the upper levels of the academy, doing  _ death weapony things.  _ She could use her soul perception to locate where he was exactly...but after all the time apart, Soul would probably notice something tugging and watching his wavelength.  _ And Maka was strong, she could make it through a little separation from her weapon. _

Hearing the toilet flush, Maka stood up, ready to finally have some relief after a slightly stressful day of avoiding _certain_ _coworkers_. Which was successful until the very subject of her terror appeared from the bathroom, slightly disheveled, winking at her as she exited and slowly walked down the hallway.

Thinking of what things could have possibly happened in there, Maka swallowed back the bile in her mouth and resisted the urge to go. Taking the  _ never-know-on-the-go-post-its _ from her blazer pocket, she quickly scrawled a quick note letting the office know that she will not be returning following today’s lunch.

Even though she refused to admit it, she really,  _ really, emotionally and especially mentally  _ needed Soul right now.

* * *

Of all the ninety-nine things Soul was doing, he could not see one important aspect or life changing experience in them, _it was almost like he took the title of Death’s personal bitch instead of a freaking weapon that could cut Kishin in under two seconds_. Yet if organization was what this world needed, then they would get it.

In the time since Kid took Death’s throne, it had been on his never ending to-do-list to bring the old dusty paper filing system into the modern digital world. Now with Soul around, he is using him to his maximum capacity. That is... _if maximum capacity equalled a very sleep deprived Soul downing four cans of Red Bull and staying up for almost three straight days to get it done. He didn’t really sleep as it is, so why not use it to his advantage? Well, Kid’s. At least he was doing something ‘productive’ in the eyes of Death himself._

While it was satisfying to get the files transferred, he really didn’t see why after loading these files into the computer that he had to keep the old paper ones as well.

Apparently old allergy tree remnants fit Kid’s office aesthetic after he droned on and on about how it would cause more air pollution in the already decaying stratosphere, _but wasn’t holding onto the paper already doing injustice at least for recycling? But, whatever. It was fine._

Typing away through the files beginning with Q, Soul was thankful that his fingers were long and very calloused or else he definitely wouldn’t have made it this far typing-wise. The uncomfortable wooden desk chair he was currently slouched on was without all doubts likely straighter and harder than Kid was. Other than that, he was in the middle of his fifth Red Bull, on his second HotPocket and zooming through files.

_“It’s on you~can you handle us, soul cool baby scandalous~...” Damn. he was almost done with the Q’s too._ Plus, last time he checked it was around four in the afternoon on Friday, now it was nearing eleven on what seemed to be Saturday morning. _Probably a telemarketer._ Keeping focused on the task at hand, he begrudgingly pressed answer and brought the phone to his ear.

_“Hello.”_

_ _

_“Soul?”_

His eyes widened and checked the caller ID on the phone to make sure he wasn’t having another hallucination from the mix of sleep deprivation and caffeine.

_“Maka? ...what’s up, everything okay?”_

_ _

_“Oh no, no… everything’s fine. I was just… checking in, making sure things are okay with Kid.”_

**  
** This was their second call since the _very temporary retirement_ of Spirit Albarn. The first being initiated by Soul after finding a place to hide in the bathroom of the Gallows during one of the many diplomatic dinners he was forced to attend. _It was definitely not because the party itself resembled one of the Evans’ typical soirées thrown on to entertain bored aristocrats. And it definitely did not bring back some not-too-great memories from that time. And he most definitely did not need to hear her voice to help him make it through the rest of the evening._

It had been just a check-in call, to help mend what little time for interaction that they had now since they were currently separated. It had been an awkward, curt… possibly  _ formal even,  _ conversation between the two. One he definitely did not want to recreate. But if it was currently the only way of speaking to his meister, then he would have to suffer through it.

_ “Oh, yeah it’s cool… been introducing prehistoric documents to the great world of online databases. Boring as hell though.” _

He did his best to cover the underlying tone of utter exhaustion from his voice, but to no avail, he couldn’t fight the struggling yawn bursting from his diaphragm. 

_ There was a hint of amusement in her voice. “Oh, really?”  _

_ “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I found Kid’s father’s birth certificate in here.” _

_ Maka let out a light-hearted laugh, the first sound he’s heard in hours not belonging to a keyboard or a mouse.  _ It was _ relieving.  _ At least this conversation seemed _ more natural.  _ More _ Soul and Maka- _ rather than two loosely reconnected friends chatting about the humdrum pleasantries of their lives. 

__

_ “Anyway… how are things at home? Kid’s couch doesn’t exactly come with a welcome mat, let alone a decent pillow and comfortable cushioning,” Maka didn’t really talk about what was going on sans Soul, so he figured this would be a less intrusive way of finding out what’s truly going on in the great mind of Maka Albarn. _

__

_ “It’s fine. Blair spends most of her nights at ChupaCabras of course. I’ve actually gotten a chance to get caught up on my to-be-read list. So, it’s been quiet,” she said. “Not to mention clean too.” _

__

_ Soul smirked, ah yes, the ever-known culprit of leaving dirty dishes on inntables and clothes on the floor. _

__

_ “That’s all bookworm? Surely you’ve read every single book you own twice by now.” _

__

_ “Tsch...believe it or not but I’ve been arms-loaded deep in schoolwork,” she sighed. “Unlike you would know since you’ve been exempted from it for the time being.” _

__

_ “Probably one of the greater aspects of being Kid’s bitch...” _

__

_ “...Oh and I wanted to ask...you don’t like corn dogs do you?”  _

__

Odd question considering that he hasn’t eaten one in years, let alone ever seen one in their freezer _. _

__

_ “No, not really, why?” _

Maka gave a nervous chuckle _. “No reason...or at least one you should be aware of...But they are now officially going on the banned list of items in the Evans-Albarn residence.” _

__

_ “Okay...so...I don’t wanna know?” _

__

_ “No.” _

__

Apparently, that would become another topic for another day _...whether or not how badly he wanted to press further on her exile of the deepfried food and what-the-fuck corn dogs did to offend her. Hell, he didn’t even know there was even a banishment list. _

__

Heavy silence passed between the two, neither really knowing how to continue the conversation.  _ Say something _ . _ This whole two minutes and forty five seconds was the most that they’ve talked in weeks.  _ Usually Maka was the good conversation starter between the two, but for some reason she was acting a bit quiet and withdrawn, unlike her normal outgoing, slightly cheery,  _ always-knowing-what-to-say _ self.  _ Maybe it was the distance. Asking could only make her draw in further and put on her everything’s-okay face, whether it was true or not. To which he knew from experience and being emotionally constipated when it comes to feelings. Fuck. Maybe he’d try sentimentality, even though it didn’t exactly go along with the whole cool guy routine. Not that he much cared when it came to his meister. He didn’t have to prove his coolness to her. _

__

_ Soul inwardly sighed. This was going to be way too cheesy for his liking. “Um...I miss missions y’know...it’s been what...like over three months since our last?” _

__

_ “...Yeah, me too…” _

__

_ Fuck. Probably made it worse.  _ Then he had an idea to cure his meister of her mental ailment.

__

_ “How about right when I get back, even though I’ll more than likely complain later, why don't we go on a long one? Maybe somewhere in Europe like Greece or something...or Paris, didn’t you always want to see the Eiffel Tower and The Louvre? Take down some kishin then visit the sights for the rest of the trip? It’d be nice to get out of this city for a while. Spirit can’t only have all the fuckin’ fun.” _

__

There was slight hesitancy from the other line, but she seemed genuinely touched over the fact that Soul was basically pulling tiny pieces of his heart out on display for her sake. 

__

_ “...Really?...I could definitely use a break. I’m holding you to it then, or else be prepared for a huge-ass Maka chop cracked down onto your skull. Sucks for you that I recently bought a new hardcover edition of Les Mis _ _ é _ _ rables.” _

__

_ “Oh trust me, I mean it.” _

__

_ “Mhm, we’ll see...anyways I gotta go I’m supposed to be meeting Tsubaki for lunch...call you later?” _

__

_ Later now meant next week if they’re lucky, so it would probably be another two before he could actually talk to her again… for a whole four minutes and thirteen seconds. _

__

_ “...Yeah that works, have fun, say hi to Tsubaki for me.” _

__

_ “Ok, I will, bye.” _

__

_ “Later.” I miss you. _

__

_ And that was it. At least she did call, he wouldn’t complain. But it was definitely not the same. _

__

Chugging down the rest of his fifth  _ Red Bull,  _ Soul started on the R’s, hoping to death that it would just claim him now so that he could get this damn filing thing over with to be able to finally get some fucking sleep.

__

_ It wouldn’t be like this forever though...right?  _

__

_ Just four more weeks. _

_  
  
_

_  
  
_

_  
  
_

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit trigger happy with italics..


End file.
